The Long Goodbye ((Open to 1 Female))

[EndHits]

Marlowe engulfed Brigitte's lips as she kissed him deeply. Their naked chests pressed tightly against each other, a light tuft of his chest hair tickling the tips of her pert, pink nipples. Their tongues danced together in a passionate tango and Marlowe would occasionally give a soft graze of his teeth across Brigitte's bottom lip. He gave a groan and tossed his head backwards as he felt the walls of her perfectly moist cunt ripple around his cock. They were barely moving now, simply enjoying the feeling of being so closely linked together.

"I could do this forever," he whispered, gazing directly into her eyes. "I'm glad you came to me with all of this." His hands roamed around the curves of Brigitte's back, pulling her in even closer, before arching his back and pushing deep into her. His hips were trapped, but even the slightest movements brought pleasure rushing through his body. Slowly pressing on the left side of her body, Marlowe gave a gentle twist and eased Brigitte's back onto the mattress without having to withdrawal from her. With a smile, Marlowe began to rock gently back and forth into her. Finally removed from his post-sleep haze, he was able to fully appreciate the sensations that he was sharing with Brigitte. They were truly making love and as he leaned down to kiss her once again, he cherished all of the subtle movements that she made as she writhed beneath him.

Maintaining a steady pace, Marlowe consumed her lips once more.

 

[LovelyLuna]

Brigitte's soft whimpers and moans filled the cool air of her bedroom as Marlowe twisted and repositioned her body underneath his to give himself more leverage. She trembled against him in near-orgasmic bliss, letting his kisses consume her. Her legs crossed behind his back to take him deeper inside of her, his slow movements bringing her closer and closer to the precipitous edge of an orgasm.

This was especially dangerous... Brigitte was not just fucking this man. He was more than just a tryst; this was lovemaking, and it was the only time she could remember that had actually felt like lovemaking. She had never felt this with her husband and, while she was glad that she had found it in Marlowe, it made her nervous. Brigitte's feelings for Marlowe were intensifying in a way that she was not used to. Every other relationship she had been in, every time another man had fucked her... it had never felt like this. And so, there were nerves, and these nerves filled her belly like butterflies... but a large part of Brigitte was beginning to realize that this type of nervousness was acceptable. Being afraid in your own home because your husband has bad men out to get him? Not as acceptable.

Marlowe leaned up, breaking their kiss and holding her gaze steadily. Brigitte was close, and all it had taken was a look from Richard. She reached one hand up to stroke her thumb across his right temple, her chest rising and falling more rapidly as she felt the pleasure building inside of her.

"Richard... you're going to make me cum...." The words were not dirty... they weren't said with any sultry tone applied like a filter over a photograph. Brigitte knew the way to a man's heart through slutty phrases uttered as they pounded her. But this was different. The smoky texture of her voice was still there... that was natural. But her words were raw and honest. Bri bit her lip to try and stifle her pleasure, but the orgasm was coming on too fast. She had wanted to cum at the same time as her new lover; she wanted to feel him fill her up with his seed at the very moment that she exploded in ecstasy. She just wasn't sure if she could wait. Leaning her head back, long locks splayed against the bed underneath her, Brigitte closed her eyes and let the intensity of this moment wash over her, a loud moan and then a gasp escaping her lips.

 

[Fuckin' Virgin]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

[EndHits]

The feeling of Bri's thumb on his right temple was nearly as electric as the fire burning inside Marlowe as he slowly rocked back and forth into the beautiful woman beneath him. Her pants, her moans, her gentle cries of pleasure filled his ears giving him a sense of accomplishment. He had never viewed himself as a particularly adept lover - having spent years worried about nothing more than his own faulty pleasures - but with this woman, his confidence was growing. The faraway look in her eyes, the way she bit her bottom lip as he withdrew his throbbing cock from inside her, the goosebumps covering her soft skin: these were all signs that he was doing his job well.

Marlowe could feel the walls of Brigitte's soaking cunt closing around his erection. He knew before she announced it that she was close, but smiled devilishly at the words on her lips. "I want you to cum for me, Bri. I want you to flood me as I flood you."

He continued his delicate movements, acutely aware of the pressure building in his loins. All focus shifted to his stiff rod and pleasant warmth that surrounded it. As Brigitte continued to tighten around him, Marlowe tempered his speed just a bit, growing only slightly more aggressive with his thrusts. His neck rolled on his shoulders, his eyes drifting about the room. It was so intense that he could barely control the muscles of his arms that were propping him up to get the best angle. Quivering, he felt a jolt of intensity flow through his entire body, a groan echoing from his lungs, through his open mouth. "I'm going to cum too...Bri..." his words barely reverberated through the air, but Marlowe knew that she had heard. The flood was coming...

 

[LovelyLuna]

Bri was already there, and there was nothing that would slow down the orgasm hurtling though her body at this point. Red fingernails digging into Marlowe's flesh now, holding onto his back tightly, Bri's climax ripped through her. Head tossed back, eyes shut tight, mouth open as she moaned out for him, Bri came, hard. At the exact moment that she began, Marlowe announced his own orgasm... this news only made Brigitte cum harder.

Refocusing her attention on Marlowe, as difficult as it was with her body convulsing underneath him, Bri leaned up to press her lips to his hard as they both came, his hot seed flooding her insides suddenly, filling her up. Moans escaped, though her lips were pressed tightly against his, and Bri ran her fingers up through Richard's hair, tangling them there, holding on tightly as she rode out such a blissful orgasm.

After another few moments, when the two of them had begun to calm down, panting against each other, Brigitte pulled back, breaking their kiss. A smile played on her lips, her eyes glazed over in a post-orgasmic trance. She could feel Richard still throbbing a bit inside of her, but she was sure that every single drop of his cum was right where it should be, deep. He was softening now, and she let it happen, let him slip from her folds slowly.

"I think... you might be the perfect man...." Bri spoke softly, brushing a few strands of Richard's hair away from his forehead. Sighing happily, she untangled herself from underneath his body and planted one final kiss on his jawline. Then she sat up, glancing around the room. Their morning rendezvous had been wonderful and relaxing, but it was time to think about the more serious matters at hand. She and him were going to flee today, that was the plan. And Brigitte had no idea what she needed to take with her.

"Will you... help me pack, darling?" She spoke with a smile on her face, but just underneath the surface she was frantic. She had been able to forget about the danger she (and possibly her new lover) were in when he was balls deep inside of her, giving her the orgasm of her life... but now everything around her was sharper... clearer. She needed to think straight, and she was having trouble due to a clouded mind, filled with sweet, and sensual, thoughts of Marlowe.

 

[EndHits]

As Marlowe felt the sting of Brigitte's nails on his back and the warm flood of her unstoppable orgasm around his cock, he let himself tumble over the edge. Soon, he could feel her lips pressed against his, but his focus remained on the incredible release of pressure from his deep in his loins. Jets of white-hot cum erupted into Brigitte's awaiting womanhood. Marlowe's back arched one final time, his eyes rolling back into his head, before collapsing onto the beautiful woman beneath him.

He laid there, catching his fleeing breath, feeling his spent cock retract. Marlowe smiled genuinely at Bri's kind words, "Hardly perfect. But from you, I'll take it." Sliding onto his back, Marlowe savored the touch of the silk sheets on his skin for one last time. They were going to be a long way away from luxury, for quite some time. But they'd have each other's company and that would have to be enough. As she kissed him one last time on the jaw, he tilted his head up to plant one directly on her exquisitely rounded lips.

As Brigitte stood and moved towards her dresser full of clothes, Marlowe flipped his legs over the corner of the bed and placed both feet into the boxers' that had been on the floor the night before. Standing and pulling them up his muscle bound legs, responding gently to Brigitte's fragile question. The reality had obviously hit her. "Bring enough to fill a single small suitcase. I don't know how much we're going to be moving around." Marlowe tugged on his pants and stretched his undershirt over his broad shoulders. "As much variety as possible. You'll want to be able blend into any situation."

Slowly buttoning the front of his shirt, Marlowe crossed around the bed to put his hand on Brigitte's shoulder. He kissed her cheek, "This morning has been wonderful. Don't forget that. It's going to be a hectic day, but try not to let it get to you."

 

[LovelyLuna]

Brigitte took Marlowe's words into consideration as she stood looking at her dresser and her walk-in closet, still naked, hands on her hips. She had a lot of clothing, that much was true. But most of it was stuff that she wasn't particularly attached to. But Marlowe was right, they needed variety. So she would take a little bit of everything. Striding into her closet, she pulled down a few casual sundresses, one slightly fancier dress and a couple button down shirts. Then she retreated to the corner of the closet and tugged out several pairs of jeans in a couple different washes. She was not the prim and proper woman that she had become. She had grown up in jeans, she was unafraid of casual dress. She guessed that Richard would be surprised by this.

Coming out of the closet, arms full of clothes, Brigitte dumped everything onto the bed. She retrieved underwear and bras from her top drawer, socks and tights from the second drawer, and a slew of casual shirts and sweaters from the third. That was it. That was all she would need.

Marlowe came around the bed now, fully dressed once more, and kissed Brigitte's cheek gently. She smiled into the kiss, grateful for this man. He had changed so much in her life, and it had scarcely been one day. It was amazing how a stranger could make you feel so wonderful.

Brigitte grabbed a pair of black panties and a matching bra and began to slip into them. Marlowe stood behind her to help with the clasp on her bra, planting a gentle kiss at the nape of her neck as he closed it. Then he stepped back, leaning against the post of the bed to watch her. She pulled on a pair of dark, skinny jeans and a black button-down blouse, then pulled her long hair up into a high ponytail. Then she unceremoniously packed the rest of her clothing into a small suitcase that she found underneath the bed.

Turning to look at Marlowe again, she flushed at the smile that had spread across his lips. "What, Richard?" She grinned, zipping the suitcase shut.

"Just... this is not the way I met you. But I like it...." He trailed off and she pressed her body against his lightly to kiss his lips and then the tip of his nose.

"I'm multi-faceted...."

Pulling back from him, she strode back into the closet, a sense of urgency in her step now. She muttered to herself, digging through a random assortment of hats that she had stored in a chest before she found it.

Exiting the closet again, eyes on Marlowe, she held a shiny, silver handgun out in front of her, on the palm of her hand. She wouldn't even let her fingers hover near the trigger. She was afraid of the thing, had never had to use a gun before, but her husband had insisted she have one. And now, it would come in handy... wouldn't it?

"I... I should probably bring this too, right? Just in case?"

 

[EndHits]

Marlowe admired the simpler, plain Brigitte with his dark blue eyes. He hadn't seen her like this before, but it was refreshing. It felt more honest, more real. She was street smart and despite he never felt like her luxurious surroundings particularly suited her. But the hip-hugging jeans, soft black blouse, and pulled-back pony tail look? That was more like it.

As Brigitte approached him with the suitcase and the gun, her hands unfolding around it as if it were an anathema to her very being, Marlowe gave a stern look. He drifted towards her gracefully, wrapping his hand around the barrel and tugging it from her grasp. "If you have to ask if you should bring it, you probably shouldn't." He slid the revolver into his back pocket, feeling its weight tug on the waistline of his pants. It wasn't loaded, but he was sure that Brigitte wasn't aware of the fact. "It's not that I don't trust you, baby, but the last thing we need is someone else getting hurt because you don't know what you're doing."

He could see the hurt swelling in her eyes. "I just want you to be safe and I could tell by the way you looked at the thing that you've never had to pull a trigger before." Marlowe patted his back pocket. "Better to keep this thing where it won't do any harm unless absolutely necessary."

He kissed her softly, pulling her into his arms, trying to give her any relief he could. "You look beautiful like this. You don't need all this glitz and glamour to have a good life. You're all natural, baby."

Suddenly, the sound of a ringing bell came from the front of the apartment.

Marlowe's head darted towards the entrance to the master bedroom, releasing his grip on Brigitte. "Do you have a fire exit to this place? If so, get there. Meet me two blocks down at the diner. If not, hide in the bathroom and lock the door." With a kiss on the forehead Marlowe crouched down to his knees and crept towards the kitchen. He looked to Brigitte with care in his eyes, "I'll be back, I promise. Get out of here."

 

[LovelyLuna]

Brigitte was letting herself melt into Marlowe's arms, calmed by his command of the situation and his kisses. She was just closing her eyes, listening to his words, focused on the way he said baby... and then she heard the jingle of bells. Bells? Were those the bells that had previously sat on her living room table? She didn't have time to speculate further before Marlowe was releasing her and, in hushed tones, instructing her to escape the apartment.

She didn't have time to respond to his questions with more than a nod, and then he was on his way out, crouching down as he exited the bedroom. One last look to her filled Brigitte with longing and fear. It was possible that Marlowe was about to sacrifice a lot for her. But he had his cellphone tucked away in his back pocket, she knew that. And she quickly retrieved hers from the nightstand before grabbing her suitcase and heading for her husband's back office. There was a fire escape there.

She pushed open the sliding doors leading out to the wrought iron fire escape as quietly as she could, then glanced down to check for anyone who might be waiting for her at the bottom. There was no one, and she breathed a sigh of relief before beginning her descent down the fire escape. It wasn't an easy one with the suitcase in tow, but at least she had packed lightly.

When she was finally on concrete, Brigitte pushed a pair of large, black sunglasses onto her face and began to walk, not run, down the block. She knew exactly which diner Marlowe was talking about; she had been there on many occasions with old clients, those who were a little too cheap to meet her anywhere nicer. She wondered momentarily if she might have seen Marlowe there, years ago, without knowing who he was. Maybe they were destined to meet each other from the very beginning...

Brigitte made it to the diner, a cozy place called JJ's, in about ten minutes. Her stomach was in knots and her hands were clammy. She was nervous. Marlowe had yet to arrive, and she hadn't received any sort of message from him that would assure her that he was all right. She made her way to a corner booth, in the back, relatively hidden from sight. When the waitress came to take her order, she asked for two coffees, black, knowing that she and her new lover needed the caffeine if they were going to be on the run. Then she took her cellphone out of her back pocket, placed it on the table and waited. He would be here soon. He had promised.

 

[EndHits]

Marlowe felt the first punch slam into his jaw.

He had been wrenched from the floor by a pair of massive hands. They had already been inside the house, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike: two men, both tall and broad with brown hair and blue eyes. As one held Marlowe's arms behind his back, the other made quick work of his face. A second punch. A third. He could feel a trickle of blood rolling down his lip.

The man behind him spoke with a gruff, aggressive voice, "This ain't Fontaine."

The man in front gave a toothless grin. "No...it isn't." He placed a clammy hand on Marlowe's cheek, his eyes scanning the stranger. "So if you're not Fontaine, who the hell are you?"

Marlowe smiled beneath the flowing blood drenching his lips. "I think I should be asking you the same question, asshole."

Toothless shook his head sarcastically. "You're not in much of a position to talk to us like that. I could have Martin throw you out the window to see what kind of pattern your insides make when they hit the ground. So, I'm going to ask you again...who the hell are you?"

Unfazed by the threat, Marlowe responded, "I'm the guy in the room with more brain cells than a caterpillar. And I'm going to suggest you unhand me before something bad happens."

Martin gave a stunted laugh and Toothless moved uncomfortably close. "You know, I hope you enjoyed being Brigitte Fontaine's new fuck toy, because its going to be the last good thing that ever came into your life." With that, Toothless began reaching into the pocket of his lapel...

Marlowe acted quickly. Using all of the upper body strength he could muster; he lunged forward, flipping Martin over his left shoulder. The massive bulk of the brute collided with Toothless knocking them both to the floor. Marlowe reached into his back pocket and wrapped his fist around the hilt of Brigitte's revolver, whipping it forward and pressing it directly against Toothless' forehead. He hoped they wouldn't call his bluff. "I've got six shots in this motherfucker and I can take out one of you with just one."

Marlowe gave a glance to Martin, "You want to find out if it takes the extra five to take you down, big boy?"

Neither man gave an answer.

"I didn't think so. Now I suggest you hoist yourselves up, make your way to that elevator and get the fuck out of this apartment before you make me mad." Marlowe's eyes with alight with rage. They had intended to hurt Brigitte and he knew that the swell of protective fervor that was running through his body meant that it didn't matter that the gun was unloaded.

Toothless raised his hands in defeat. "Fine. We'll get out of here. But you and your girl better hope that we don't find you again." Slowly, the duo began backing towards the elevator. "Because when we do, you're a dead man." The elevator door closed behind them.

Marlowe went to the kitchen and grabbed one of the fine rags hanging from the side of the stove. He dragged it against his split lip, blood soaking through the fine linen. Wrapping his trench coat around his shoulders, Marlowe made his way to the emergency exit. He didn't want to meet with any backup in the lobby. Slowly climbing the metal stairs down to the ground level, he flipped up the collar of his coat to keep his anonymity and made his way to the diner...

 

[LovelyLuna]

Brigitte had made her way through two cups of coffee and was tapping her nails nervously on the table, eyes glued to the door of the diner. Richard would come, she knew he would. She checked her phone compulsively, though she had just looked at it a few seconds earlier. He hadn't texted, or called, but maybe he was about to walk through the door.

Brigitte looked down at her suitcase now, absentmindedly fiddling with the zipper pull on it while she contemplated the situation. She had gotten Marlowe into this. She was somewhat aware of the danger of it all, but she had never truly stopped to think about what she was doing to him. He had agreed to help her, but maybe he didn't fully understand what he was agreeing to do. Maybe she should have him left him out of it entirely.

But then she thought about the way his strong hands felt on her the previous night, and then this morning. She thought about the color of his eyes, and the smell of his neck, and the way his cock fit inside of her, and the swell of emotion that filled her chest after all of those thoughts was enough to convince Bri that she was doing the right thing. She needed someone to help her, and Richard was just the person. She cared about him. She wasn't sure how it had all happened so fast, but she really felt something for this man.

Breaking the line of her own thoughts, Brigitte raised her eyes to the door to check for Marlowe once more. And she spotted him, hand pulling on the metal handle, coat pulled up around his face to hide... oh God, the bruises.

Brigitte rushed out of the booth, not taking a moment to think about discretion, heading for Marlowe. She felt a tug in her heart, seeing him hurt like he was. His lip was split, and it was bleeding just a bit, though she guessed that he had tried to staunch the flow. He had a few cuts at his temple and his brow, and one eye looked as if it was swelling up. Gasping, Brigitte reached Richard and wrapped one hand around his arm, tilting his face toward hers by lifting on his chin.

"Richard... darling... I am so sorry...." She spoke in hushed tones, realizing herself now, but no one was paying them much mind now. She led Richard to the table in the corner, helping him to settle down into the booth and then sliding in next to him. She quickly got to work, soaking a few napkins in water from her glass and cleaning his wounds as best she could. All the while she stayed silent, biting her lip -- she was afraid to ask what had happened to him. She was afraid to know who had done this, and what they had wanted, though she had a pretty good idea of these things already.

Richard tried to shrug her off, halfheartedly, but he was just trying to act tough. She swatted his hand away as she finished up cleaning the blood from his temple, then set the napkins down and ran one hand over Richard's cheek, gently, before pressing her lips to his in one, soft kiss.

"How did this happen, Richard? I shouldn't have gotten you into this, I shouldn't have let you get involved... I am so sorry. I understand if you want to back out now. I'll figure a way out of this on my own..."

 

[EndHits]

Marlowe felt a sharp sting as Brigitte applied pressure to his open lip, the wet napkin soaking with his fresh blood. He winced as she did her work. The wounds were still fresh and bruising; his body couldn't take the same damage that it once could. Still, he tried to give her a reassuring smile, Marlowe could see the worry in Brigitte's gorgeous eyes. As she finished, she kissed him on the cheek and then on the lips. There was a flash of pain, even with such soft ministrations, but Marlowe accepted the kiss graciously.

"Baby, I don't want you on your own. Not after what I just went through. These guys, whoever they are; they're killers. They want your husband, but if he's skipped town, they'll resort to some pretty terrible things to get him to come back." Marlowe took a long sip of the glass of water that had sitting on the table for minutes. The diner's staff had been ignoring them mostly; and he could hardly blame them. The water flowed into his dry throat, soothing his aching body. "I can't let that happen."

"You're safe with me, Brigitte, I promise," he said, draping an arm over her shoulders. She was upset and he knew there was nothing he could say to make this better. He had to act.

Marlowe turned his head to the long bar across the opposite side of the diner. A handsome young waiter was busily cleaning glassware, but otherwise unoccupied. Marlowe gave a shout, "Hey man, would you mind bringing us some breakfast? Anything. Eggs. Bacon. Whatever you've got. We're starving."

The waiter gave a quick nod and dipped back into the kitchen.

"We've got to figure out what to do next. Where to go. They saw my face, they know who I am; so I can't take you back to my apartment. It's too dangerous. And we certainly can't go to whatever other properties' your husband owns. Do you have any friends that would be willing to put you up for a while? Put me up for a while?"

Marlowe could feel a vibration surging through his pocket as he asked the last question. Reaching for his cell phone, he gazed at the screen. It was Zariah; no doubt calling with answers from the research she had done the night before. He'd call her back. Brigitte had to be the primary focus of his attention at this moment. Their next action was too important.

 

[LovelyLuna]

Brigitte felt the urge to sob as Richard told her what happened. So there were men looking to kill her? She knew they were dangerous, but she had assumed that they didn't actually want to hurt her. A few of the men her husband did business with had even propositioned her in the past, asked her if she was interested in being fucked for a little bit of cash or just for fun. But she had left that life behind when she had married Fontaine. Or so she had thought...

Marlowe's arm around her soothed Brigitte, taking her down a few notches from worried sick to worried hungry. There was a gnawing in the pit of her stomach that was either a result of being starving or sick, and Brigitte was more than willing to fill that void with food. She would have spoken up, but once again it seemed as if Richard knew what she needed before she knew herself. He called out to the waiter, perhaps a bit gruffly but she understood his anxiety. He had gotten the shit beat out of him after all. Made a man hungry.

She turned to face him as he began to talk business, pressing her body against his side so he could talk quietly. He was right. There was no way they could go back to his apartment now, which made Brigitte feel guilty. Not only had she been the reason for Richard's bloody lip and bruises, but now he couldn't even go home. She felt horrible. And the truth was, she didn't have many friends.

"Uh... Well... Most of my friends are housewives, married to William's colleagues..." She realized she couldn't really call those women friends anyway. They all secretly hated her for being the youngest in the group and married to the richest guy at the firm. "I... I don't know. I guess... Maybe...." She trailed off here, searching her mind for someone who would be willing to take care of her and Richard until they came up with a solid plan. She had no family, no parents, her sister was long gone.

Hearing the buzz of Richard's phone, Bri watched him take it from his pocket, read the screen and then stow it away again. She wondered who was calling him. She wondered, fleetingly, if she could really trust him. But those doubts passed in an instant as she remembered the way he had looked at her the night before. He was all in.

Brigitte slid her hand under Richard's palm now, sighing. She had really gotten herself into a righteous mess. In fact, she almost wished she was still at Club X, dancing and having sex for money. At least she had been friends with the girls...

And that's when it clicked in her mind. She had also been friends with the guys. There was one burly bartender, his name had been Ralph. Still was Ralph, she was sure. Ralph was like an older brother to most of the girls, constantly making sure they were well fed, that they weren't working too many hours. He kept the really skeevy guys away for the most part, and he had loved Brigitte deeply. She had always assumed that his love ran a little deeper than the type that brothers have for their younger sisters, but he had been a good friend, whatever his intentions. And Brigitte knew that if she could track him down, if he still worked at Club X, he would help her out. He had hated William Fontaine, and had tried to convince Bri not to marry him, warning her that no good would come from marrying for money. He would probably say "I told you so", but he wouldn't let his smugness stop him from protecting her.

"I've got it... I know someone, lives all the way out in Long Island, and he'd help... At least until we can get out of here, he'd help. His name is Ralph Morelli..." She trailed off and smiled at the waiter who had just arrived with steaming plates of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. When he had set down the plates, asked politely if they needed anything else (eyeing Marlowe fearfully the entire time), and left, Bri continued.

"What do you think? He knew me when I was dancing, and he's always been a good friend and I know he wouldn't turn me away..."

 

[EndHits]

Marlowe mulled over the options, of which there were few. Ralph might have been a good friend to Brigitte, might even be a trustworthy ally, but if the mob owned Club X; they certainly owned its bartender. Richard brought a fork full of fried eggs to his lips, devouring it in one bite. He was hungry. For food. For answers.

His eyes shifted to meet with Brigitte's and he found himself lost in her beauty for just a moment; longing for the night before when everything had felt like a simple financial investigation. It had been easy to enjoy himself a little too much. Marlowe shifted in his seat, adjusting himself so that the bruise on his stomach wouldn't rub against the fabric of his shirt. "Listen, baby. Ralph might be a friend of yours, a good one. He might have stuck up for you while you were working at the club and he's probably a good option if we can't find any other. But the truth is, these guys weren't fuckin' around. The mafia owns that joint and they'll get Ralph to squeal and we'll be in this position all over again."

"Truth be told, I'd rather not get anyone else involved. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if somebody got hurt on my account." Marlowe took a moment to breathe and clear his thoughts. He kissed the center of Brigitte's forehead.

He could feel his phone wriggling in his pocket again. This time he was sure Brigitte had noticed the pulse. Marlowe worked himself out of the tangled embrace. "It's the office, baby. Give me five minutes." He tossed a hundred dollar bill on the table; a big tip for a couple's meal. "Tell the waiter it's all his. They worked hard for us this morning."

Marlowe strode out to the sidewalk, into the cold morning air. There were stares from passers by, glaring at his obvious wounds. He dialed the office and put the cell phone up to his ear.

Zariah answered, "I've been trying to get a hold of you all morning, Marlowe. What the hell is going on out there?"

"I'll spare you the details, Z. Needless to say, Ms. Fontaine's case is a bit more complicated than I had previously thought. It's gonna take a more delicate hand."

"Tell me about it. After all that I dug up on her past; there's no doubt that she's had some contact with the rougher elements of society. The mob. A few old friends' of yours actually; one's you had locked up. She's got a few jilted lovers that might cause some trouble too..."

Marlowe cut in. "Brigitte told me everything I needed to know already. I just had to loosen her up a bit. Look into the ownership of Club X and do some research on the bartender: Ralph Morelli. Background checks, rap sheets, god damn social security cards, I want everything on the bastards who run the joint. Got me?"

Zariah sighed on the other end of the phone, "You got it, boss." She paused as if contemplating her next question. "You didn't sleep with her, did you?"

"I didn't."

"Liar." She always knew when he was lying.

"This one's got something special, Z. I want to see to it that she's taken care of. Which brings me to the last thing I need from you today: Can you think of anywhere we could stay until I can get some of the pressure off of us?" His voice showed his desperation.

Zariah gave a short chuckle. "My parents have a vacation home in Asbury Park. Nothing too fancy. It's a small town, not really your style, but you'd be anonymous. At least for a while, loverboy." Marlowe had had just about enough of Z's effervescent sarcasm. "Just don't let her pull you down into the muck, Marlowe. You're not a cop anymore."

"Can you arrange for me to get the keys?"

"Sure thing. They won't be around to bother you. They live in the city. You'll have the whole place to yourselves. Just don't get any bodily fluids on my parents' sheets, okay?"

Marlowe broke his serious for just a second to let out a small laugh, barely noticeable. "Thanks, Z. I owe you one."

"You owe me more than one, you bastard. You owe me a paycheck."

"Soon. I promise."

 

[LovelyLuna]

Brigitte let her fingertips catch Marlowe's arm as he stood up to go, lingering there as she looked up at him. He gave her a small smile before raising the phone to his ear and striding out of the diner. Brigitte was a bit disappointed. She had thought her suggestion was a good one, but now she could see the flaws in that particular plan. How could she have been so stupid? It was certainly a good thing she wasn't alone in all this... obviously she needed Richard to show her the way. If it wasn't for him, she would probably be dead in her apartment, or bloodied and bruised in captivity.

Glancing down at the hundred on the table, Brigitte fished around in her purse for a hundred of her own and made a mental note to give it to Marlowe later. She had gotten him into this mess and, while she was sure he could pay for things on his own, she could take care of whatever expenses they would have to worry about while they were on the run. Her husband was a multi-millionaire, after all. Brigitte hadn't made Marlowe aware of this fact, but she had shoved about a hundred grand into the hidden inner pocket of her suitcase, in cash, and she had a few grand more stashed away in her purse. She had been saving cash that William gave her, regularly, because she knew that his accounts could be frozen at any moment. She was a smart girl, despite what people might think when they first saw her.

Brigitte turned now to look out the front window of the diner, spotting Marlowe pacing on the sidewalk. She was a little bit concerned by the secrecy. She knew that it was the office, and she knew that it was important that he keep Zariah, his sassy secretary, up-to-date on his whereabouts. But she felt as if they had shared too much at this point to be keeping any secrets at all. She was just starting to trust Richard, just starting to feel like he might be the only man in the world she could trust -- the phone calls, taken outside, away from her listening ears, made Bri just a tad bit paranoid.

It looked as if Richard would be finished up soon, and Brigitte was eager to get moving as soon as possible. There was a small chance she also wanted to eavesdrop on his conversation, but that was beside the point. Gathering up everything they had left behind, including her suitcase and her purse, Brigitte pointed the waiter toward the money on the table and then began her trek out of the diner. She placed her sunglasses back onto her face for discretion's sake and pushed her way into the glaring sunlight. Passerby glanced at her for whatever reason. It may have been the way her jeans hugged her hips, or maybe she looked familiar to some of them. In any case, she only cared about one person.

Brigitte reached Richard in time to hear him thank Z (Zariah?), and then hang up. He turned to face her, a victorious smile spreading across his face. That had to mean good news, right?

"I've got us a place. Asbury Park... ever been?" Richard grinned, though Bri could see that there was still worry hidden behind his eyes. She wanted to make the best of this though. If she could pretend that the two of them were merely going on a romantic vacation, it would make things a hell of a lot easier.

"Asbury Park.... no, can't say I have. Also, here..." She took the hundred dollar bill folded up in her hand and deposited it into Richard's palm, biting her lip. "I don't want you to spend a cent. This is all my fault, and I've got a nice stack to show you later anyway..." She smiled, hoping that he would think this information was actually a positive thing; she was hoping that she had done something right for once.

"Now... lead the way..."

 

[EndHits]

Marlowe felt the stiff cloth of a hundred-dollar bill fold into his hand as Brigitte pressed his fingers into a fist. He gave her a world-weary smile. "Well I'm not one to turn down a few bucks from one of the richest, most beautiful women in the city. Thanks. I know you hired me, but this about more than that now."

He gave her nod of appreciation and stuck his hand in the wind to signal a taxi. Soon, a bright yellow cab pulled up to the sidewalk corner and Marlowe opened the rear door for Brigitte. "We'll stop by my apartment to pick up a few things, grab my car and then head to Jersey." He closed the door behind her and quickly paced to the opposite side of the vehicle.

Once comfortable on the faux-leather seats, Marlowe snapped on his safety belt and gave the driver his address. It wasn't far; just over the Brooklyn Bridge. He held Brigitte's hand tightly, silence pervading the interior of the cab. It was difficult to talk with prying ears so close by. Richard leaned over to kiss her as they approached his apartment.

Marlowe didn't live in the worst neighborhood, but it certainly wasn't the best either; far from the luxury of Fontaine's condominium. Once again he opened the door for Brigitte, "It's not much, baby. But it's home." Leaning into the window of the taxi, Marlowe paid the driver and watched him speed away into the hazy morning fog.

He guided Brigitte up three flights of stairs, through graffiti-lined hallways and chipped-paint walls. It was slightly embarrassing. Marlowe had made a good living before his ex-wife had taken all of his money in the divorce.

Approaching his apartment, it was clear that something was off. Wrong. The door lay wide open, broken glass on the welcome mat before the archway. Marlowe reached into his back pocket and removed Brigitte's tiny pistol. He gave her a cautious stare, "You stay here, baby. I'll be right back."

Marlowe entered the portal; sweeping the gun across the foyer, through his kitchen and into his living room. The place had been ransacked: vases shattered, paintings pulled from the wall, coffee tables flipped onto their side. He had never been much of a decorator anyway. Entering the bedroom, he checked his closet and the attached bathroom, focused and determined to drive away any intruders.

But there were none. He slid the gun into his back pocket, a makeshift holster. This was nothing but a scare tactic. They were hoping to drive him out into the open; to scare him. This wasn't the first time he'd had his home raided by criminals, but he knew they couldn't be far away. He'd have to be quick. "Bri, you can come in. It's safe," he yelled through the corridors. He grabbed a backpack and starting shoving piles of clothes into the open zipper. "I just need a minute."

 

[LovelyLuna]

Brigitte gasped as her and Marlowe reached the door to his apartment, seeing the mess that those bastards had made of it. She bit her lip, unsure of what to do or say, and she was grateful when Marlowe gave her instructions. Stay there. She could do that. She watched Richard raise her gun in front of him and step through the doorway, over shards of broken glass. A pit of fear and nausea was rising in her stomach. This was all her fault. This was where Richard lived, lay his head every night... Could she really be worth all this?

A small part of her wanted to just turn and walk away. They would probably find her, but maybe that was the noble thing to do. Turning on her heel, Brigitte got as far as the second step down before she couldn't move any more. Her heart was cracking, threatening to shatter if she went any further. She wasn't sure how she had fallen for Marlowe in one day, but she had, and she couldn't leave him. He would be safer that way, but she was selfish. Selfish and... In love.

Closing her eyes, Bri lowered her hand to the metal railing to steady herself, breathing in deeply. When had life gotten so hard?

Turning at the sound of Marlowe's voice calling to her, Brigitte collected herself and then headed into the apartment, bags in hand. The damage was much worse inside, glass all over the place, table legs broken off and curtains torn down. She could tell that Richard's abode had been meager and simple, but she instantly felt at home. One hand over her chest, she could feel her heart beating hard against her ribcage. A place like this, in another life, could have been her home. In another dimension, one where she had met Richard Marlowe in the grocery store and they had flirted over produce, might have ended with her here, attached to him, the two of them leading a simple, happy life. No mob guys, no prostitution scandals, no running. Certainly no ransacked apartments. Brigitte set down her bags by the couch and began to right what she could. She replaced the cushions, placing one of them face down to hide an ugly gash made by some sort of knife, then moved on to the curtains. She hung them, though they were a bit lopsided, and closed them. Next was the glass scattered around the apartment.

Bri worked fast, finding a large garbage bag under the sink and tossing what she could, managing to gouge her palm on a shard of glass like a klutz. She cursed under her breath and went to get a paper towel with some water on it. Pressing it to her wound, she winced. She couldn't even clean right.

Richard's voice called out to her, a bit of panic in his words. She hadn't said anything when she came inside. "Baby? Bri, are you okay?"

He came into view from what she guessed was his bedroom, a backpack over his shoulder and his brow furrowed.

"I'm here, Richard. Sorry, I was... Well I was cleaning things and I cut myself... I'm okay though..." Bri secured the towel tightly around her hand before taking long strides to the concerned man in front of her. She wrapped her uninjured hand around the back of his neck and stood on tiptoe, no heels to help her height now, just black flats. Pressing her lips to Richard's, she kissed him with more passion than she had been able to show him all morning, tasting a mixture of the saltiness of his blood, from the split lip, and the very essence of what his lips tasted like. His hand snaked around her waist as they kissed, and for a minute or so she considered asking him to make love to her. But they didn't have time. Pulling away, Bri let her hand linger at the back of Richard's neck, playing in his hairline.

"I... Want you to know how grateful I am for this. You don't have to help me, but you are. I love... I love your willingness to protect me." She swallowed hard here, nodded, and then turned to pick up the bag full of glass and porcelain that she had collected. "Can we toss this on the way out?"

 

[EndHits]

Marlowe savored every ministration of the soft, but passionate kiss. Brigitte certainly knew how to make him feel cared for.

After stuffing his bag full of casual clothes, an extra pair of shoes and a few rounds of ammunition; Marlowe made his way into the bathroom, reaching into the medicine cabinet to retrieve some actual bandages to treat Brigitte's wound. Returning to her side, he took her wrist into his hand and unwrapped the paper towel to reveal the cut. She was still bleeding slightly. Marlowe gazed into her eyes, "This might sting a bit." He slid an alcohol soaked q-tip along the edge of the wound, cleansing it of any dangerous bacteria. "Somebody has to look out for you, Bri. It might as well be me. Seems as though Mr. Fontaine is otherwise occupied. The bastard." Marlowe wrapped the wound tightly with the white gauze bandage.

He gave her a soft kiss as the minor procedure ended, squeezing her wrist to let her know that it was over. "All finished, baby. Let me show you to our gallant steed." With a smirk, he ushered Brigitte out of his apartment. He left the door unlocked. What was the point? They'd just find another way in.

The sun was finally peering through the clouds as they exited onto the street. It was nice to feel a bit of warmth on his face. Marlowe smiled openly for the first time since he had had a fist in his gut earlier in the morning. He could feel the stubble around his jaw stretching, tickled by the wind. Striding down the sidewalk, he spotted his car: an old, beat-up Cadillac from a bygone era. The paint was scratched, there was a hairline scratch on the passenger's side window; but it was his. "We'll have to get a rental car when we get to Asbury. I don't want to take any chances. But for now, this is our chariot."

He gave Brigitte a wink and opened the passenger door for her. "It's only an hour from here. It shouldn't be too bad of a drive."

Swinging around to his seat, Marlowe placed the key in the ignition and turned. The hum of the engine came alive and he turned to smirk at his new lover. "Let's try to have some fun."

With that, he pulled away from the curb. Next stop, Asbury Park.

 

[LovelyLuna]

Brigitte loved Marlowe's car. She was drawn to it by every little detail, from the chipped paint to the various scratches and the worn leather seats. As she settled into the passenger's side, she wiggled around and pressed herself into the soft leather. She turned her head, inhaling, gathering the scent of cigarettes, Richard's cologne, and that special Richard Marlowe essence that she couldn't quite describe or pinpoint. This was where she wanted to be. She wished the two of them could drive all the way down the coast and then keep going. But she knew that wasn't possible. They needed to solve the problem. Not run from it.

The sun was shining this afternoon though, and Bri realized that this might be the only opportunity the two lovers had to enjoy themselves before the shit really hit the fan. This realization made her eager to forget their troubles, at least for a day or two. They were going to have a wonderful time, go to the beach, get some sun.

The drive wasn't bad at all, especially with the windows down and Richard's hand on Brigitte's thigh. They had been silent for the first 10 minutes or so, no doubt both pondering the next few days and what they might hold. But soon enough the conversation had begun to flow, and now they were about 10 minutes from their destination and they were laughing, their problems forgotten for the moment.

Brigitte spotted a store along the side of the road that boasted beach supplies and begged to stop. Richard wasn't particularly interested in shopping, but he pulled over to let Bri do a bit of it. She headed in and managed to find several things they needed: a retro bathing suit for her, with tight fitting high waisted red and blue bottoms and a matching red bikini top; blue swim trunks for Marlowe; sunscreen and towels for the both of them. Things that they never would have remembered to pack.

When she returned to the car with a big bag, Richard rolled his eyes but chuckled, then took them the rest of the way to their home for the next week or so.

Brigitte was floored. The house wasn't large, but it was beautiful, and right on the beach. There was a car rental place down the road, so Bri had convinced Richard to wait on that, promising to walk there with him later on. She was getting warm in her jeans and black blouse, so she went on a search for the bedroom as soon as they got inside. Richard headed for the bar in the living room: he wanted a drink.

Bri found the guest bedroom that Zariah had told Richard to use and set her bags down. The bed was queen sized, just right for the two of them, and Bri was already longing for bedtime with Richard tonight. In fact, she had felt herself tingling, getting wet from just the sensation of Richard's fingers squeezing her thigh in the car. Now, hearing him clinking glasses in the other room, Bri wanted him. She was sure he was tired though, sure he wasn't in the mood, and she didn't want him to think that all she was after was his body.

Bri stripped down, folding her discarded clothes on top of a chair and bent over to pull her new bathing suit from the shopping bag. She slipped into the bottoms, then tied the top around herself and eyed her figure in the old full-length mirror that was hanging on the bathroom door. She certainly looked good in it, and she felt good in it. Grabbing the towels, sunscreen and Richard's bathing suit, she strode back out into the living room to find him. He turned as she walked in, holding out a glass of amber-colored liquid to her and letting his eyes drink her in. She took the glass, handed him the trunks and smiled.

"Put it on. Take me to the beach."

 

[EndHits]

Marlowe stood in awe, the whiskey flowing back and forth in his glass as he gazed up and down Brigitte's perfect body. It felt like an eternity since he had seen her soft, sensual skin; even though it had only been the night before. So much had changed since then. Her new bikini highlighted her luscious curves and despite his aching muscles, Marlowe found himself mentally aroused by the thought of peeling the tiny pieces off of her. He took one last sip of the exquisitely aged drink and handed her the glass, exchanging it for the swim trunks. This was not a question. It was a demand. "As you wish, madame," he replied with a wink.

He stepped into the bedroom to change. It was plain; decorated to reflect the beach outside of the open window. The soft yellow paints on the walls was covered by paintings by local artists of the quaint town and it's inhabitants, seashells lined the edge of the dresser.

"You know," he said at the top of his voice so she could hear, "If it wasn't for the guys trying to kill me, I'd think this was some kind of blessing. I could have used a vacation years ago."

Marlowe always felt silly in bathing suits. Exposed. He was used to down-playing himself, trying to blend in with the crowd. Bright blue swim trunks and flip flops did the exact opposite of that. Except for in a place like this: beautiful Asbury Park. He stepped out into the dining room, where he caught Brigitte sipping on his drink. "How do I look?" he said with a smile.

He slid a pair of sunglasses over his brow and turned towards the sliding glass door that led directly to the beach. "Let's go put our feet in the sand, get a little wet and wild."

Marlowe felt the sand crinkle under his toes as he stepped outside. It wasn't unbearably hot, but the warmth stung just a bit as he strode towards the crashing waves. He could feel each footstep sink just a bit, crunching beneath him. He latched his fingers into Brigitte's pulling her forward for a deep kiss. "This seems like the most sunshine I've seen in weeks. Probably because you're here, Bri." It was a cheap line and he delivered it with a wink, but he knew she would smile. They could both use a few more smiles in their life.

"Come on, I'll race you," he said, dashing off towards the horizon.

 

[LovelyLuna]

Brigitte was giggling, loudly, for the first time in as long as she could remember. She ran with her arms spread wide, next to Richard, the sand warm on her feet and the sun warm on her skin. His legs were much longer, he was way more athletic than she was, and it showed. He beat her to the water by a good foot and she gave up right at the edge, letting herself fall onto the sand and lay back. He stopped and turned back to fall down next to her, on his stomach.

"Mmmm.... the water's going to hit us with the next wave...." Her tone was apathetic and soft, and she was smiling. Richard was smiling too, and he reached one hand up to cup her face, thumb running a slow circle over her cheekbone as he focused his eyes on hers. There were words unsaid between them, words that didn't need to be said to be felt, and Bri was swelling up with them.

Richard spoke up now, murmuring softly. "I don't think either of us care..." With that, he leaned over her body to kiss her lips again softly. His hand ran down from her cheek to the side of her neck, and then down the middle of her chest. It was a bold move, and if there had been more people around, Bri might have playfully swatted him away. But she was enjoying the feeling of his fingers between her breasts, then over the small strip of her stomach that was showing between the top and bottom of her bathing suit. She moaned against Richard's lips, but the sensual sounds were interrupted by her squeals as a cold wave splashed over her legs and Richard's as well.

She giggled as she pulled away from him, crawling up the sand to drier ground and planting herself firmly there, sitting and leaning back against her hands. Richard was slower moving, crawling to where she was with less urgency.

"Do you think they know we're here?" She didn't mean to bring it up again, but it seemed as if no moment could go unblemished by the trainwreck that was her life.

Richard shushed her, his hand playing with her ponytail as he rubbed one hand over her knee. "Don't think about that. You're here, with me.... and I think you're beautiful..."

"I think you're wonderful...." And she really meant it. Richard was the single most wonderful man she had ever known, and she was unsure how she could have been attracted to any man before him. She didn't think she would ever be attracted to any man after him.

 

[EndHits]

Marlowe laid back onto the sand as a second wave came crashing towards them. Everything moved slower here. He had gotten so used to the fast pace of the city he had almost forgotten how to breathe the clear beach air. And with a woman as beautiful as Brigitte sitting next to him, he had to remember not to get too comfortable; he could never be too comfortable.

His blue eyes shifted to her own gaze. "I'm only as wonderful as you think I am, Bri. I'm a real mess. And I may have made our mess even worse. But for now, I'm really enjoying the view." Marlowe smiled like he hadn't all day. It was wide, honest, and vulnerable.

Suddenly, a loud groan came from Marlowe's stomach. He laughed, embarrassed but unapologetic. It had been hours since their early morning breakfast and he was famished. Using his hands to propel himself upwards, Marlowe met Brigitte with a soft, playful kiss. He pulled himself away from her lips, his face still close to hers; "I'm hungry. Let me buy you dinner. I've got a surprise for you."

With that, Marlowe stood and brushed the sand from his swim trunks. He extended his hand to Brigitte, helping her to her feet and giving her a second, more passionate kiss. "Come on," he said as he starting jogging down the beach, tugging Brigitte behind him. "I think you're going to love this."

It only took a few minutes to arrive at the destination: an old, antiquated boardwalk, right out of a painting. Children and families meandered the sands, swimming in the Atlantic and browsing the myriad of small shops and snack stands along the edge. He gave Brigitte a glance, taking in her nostalgic demeanor. "Brigitte Seratos, would you go out on a date with me?" he said with all sincerity. "Zariah told me about this great little Korean Barbecue just a little ways from here. I want to treat you like a lady, buy you dinner and take you home for a comfortable night in. What do you say?"

 

[LovelyLuna]

Brigitte giggled as Richard dragged her down the beach, trying to keep up but falling short just a bit. "Where are we going, Richard? You're so silly..." When they arrived at their destination, however, Brigitte was singing a different tune. She gasped, taking a look around at the place that she and Richard seemed to have stepped through a time portal to get to. It was like a different universe, one where it was still the 50s, and the boardwalk was a place for people to go to shop and eat and throw their worries away.

Children laughed nearby and Bri turned to look at them, smiling, wondering if she would ever have kids of her own. If she did, she knew she would take them here, or to a place just like this, to enjoy their childhood. Hers had been difficult, broken and strained, and she didn't want anyone to ever have to go through what she had gone through.

Glancing back up at Richard, hearing his sweet request, Brigitte threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, right there in front of all of the people meandering about the boardwalk. She let her lips draw him closer, sucking on the lower one playfully before pulling back to look into his eyes.

"I'd be the luckiest girl in the world to have you buy me dinner...." She grinned, pulling away and slipping her hand down to his, wanting to feel close, even as they began to walk. "Oh, and Richard? Thanks for calling me Seratos...." She knew that he realized the significance of using her maiden name when he spoke. It was a remnant of a life hidden away, but Richard had drawn it out of her. Bri knew she could trust him, no matter what. And now, with her husband (hopefully soon to be ex) so far away, Brigitte could start feeling like her old self. She had been poor, dirt poor, but at least she had been free.

Hand in hand, the couple walked to the place that Richard had mentioned, getting seated at a table fairly quickly. Brigitte had momentarily been concerned that her attire might not be appropriate, but here on the boardwalk, no one wore clothing. Everyone was dressed just like she and Richard, and she felt comfortable, blending in with him. The two of them held hands across the table immediately after sitting down, not wanting to spend a moment without the other's touch.

 

[EndHits]

The table was made of a soft oak, complimenting the casual decor on the inside of restaurant. Just beyond reach lie a fiery grill, a personal cooking station just for Brigitte and Marlowe. A pot of rice steamed at the center. Marlowe squeezed his lovers' hand before standing and dolling out a few scoops of rice for each of them. The smell of beef sirloin and grilled chicken combined with the ocean air to create a blissful assault on the senses.

"So tell me more about yourself, Bri," he said, returning to his seated position. "I know all your deep dark secrets, but I don't know much else about you. And if there's a time to get to know each other, it seems like now."

Before she could answer their server arrived at the table. Marlowe already knew what he was hungering for. After exchanging a few pleasantries with the young waitress, he ordered, "Can we get some of the Bulgogi, a half serving of Galbi, and a half serving of Dak Galbi?" The waitress nodded and darted off into the back.

Marlowe smirked at Brigitte, grabbing her hand once more, "Can you tell I've done this before?" She had a look of bemusement on her face. "I ordered brisket, half a sirloin and some barbecue chicken. It's a lot, but I'm hungry as hell and we can take some home with us." The waitress returned with chunks of fresh cut meat, placing them gently on the grill and turning them to cook each side. A second attendant brought small plates of egg and salad. It was a real feast; fitting for a first date. He had never wanted to impress a woman so badly.

The scent drifted up to Marlowe's nostrils, only exacerbating his groaning stomach. He leaned over to kiss Brigitte as the meat began to simmer, almost finished. The waitress and her attendant slipped away, finally leaving them alone. "You're going to love this, I promise," he said as he forked some of the brisket onto Brigitte's plate. "Now, where were we?"

 

[LovelyLuna]

Brigitte felt as if every sense was intensified, sitting here with Marlowe. The smell of food, simmering deliciously all around them, the feeling of the soft wood of the table beneath her arm, the sound of waves crashing not far away and people laughing in other parts of the restaurant -- and Marlowe, sweet Richard Marlowe; the sight of his eyes smiling at Brigitte was more than she could take. She wanted to give herself to him, completely. When he asked to know more about her, she felt she could, in a sense.

The food was really good. Maybe better than anything she had ever tasted, though she suspected that had a little something to do with the company she was keeping. She took a bite or two, hungrily. Bri hadn't realized until this moment that she was starving, barely having eaten a thing at breakfast because she had been too nervous.

"Me? I'm afraid I'm terribly uninteresting...", Brigitte started. She knew that he wouldn't believe that (Exhibit A: They were on the run from mobsters out to kill her and her husband), but she tried it anyway. The truth was, Brigitte's checkered past, those deep dark secrets that she had already spilled to Marlowe in her bathtub: that was as good as she got. All the intrigue, all the lies and deceit were exciting, yes. But she was pretty positive that once all that was stripped away, once Richard saw the real her, he'd be unimpressed.

As Brigitte Fontaine, she was really something. But Brigitte Seratos was achingly average.

"I have no family. You know that already... No, don't look sorry for me, I'm fine now. That's a very old wound, just a small scar really." She didn't want pity. She was just giving him the facts. "I've only been in love once. I thought he was the one, but he just... Wasn't. Because I was hurt, I hurt others. Men don't like it when the girl they're with is sleeping with other people, go figure..." She was referencing the men she had angered, broke the hearts of, while working at Club X. Most of them didn't even know she was a dancer, just fell for her when they saw her in the grocery store. When they found out, they felt betrayed. But stone cold Brigitte was unapologetic, maybe even cruel.

Things were different now. She didn't want to hurt anyone anymore.

"My favorite color is red. I hate the sound of fire trucks. Lapis lazuli is my favorite precious stone." She took a few more bites of her food, smiling between chewing. "I'm not sure what else you want to know. Some day.... Some day I want to be a first grade teacher." She hadn't thought about that dream in years, and now it all came rushing back. She loved children.

"What about you, Richard? You're the real mystery here, Mr. Private Eye. I know about the scandal, and the divorce. Everyone does. You don't have to relive those memories..."